


Sexless in the City

by AuroraNuv



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Genderbending, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-05
Updated: 2012-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-09 05:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNuv/pseuds/AuroraNuv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has grown up into a sexy, confident, but still ditzy and clumsy woman. Lydia decides it's time for a make-over.<br/>Derek approves.</p>
<p>... I have no explaination for this other than my own random brain!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Shit.

Stiles knew this was a bad idea from the start. Lydia however, was an evil, manipulative genius and still held sway over poor Stiles hormones.  
What can she say; a girl’s first love stays with her. But that's all irrelevant now anyway. Because that crush never came to fruition and now never will. Jackson never let Stiles get the chance to test Lydia's sexuality and now Stiles is going to die.

Stupid Jackson.   
Stupid Lydia...well, you know what she means.

She feels like she's gonna cry! This just isn't right. She's a virgin. Twenty years old. Prime of her life. Genius researcher. Werewolf tamer _extraordinaire_! And how will Genim Stilinski end her glorious but unfulfilled, unfinished life? In an epic battle facing off between good and evil? In an epic sacrifice to save her, forever grateful and grieving, friends? In an epic marathon of sexual exploits that eventually does in her heart?? Nope.

Not for Stiles. Maybe she has a thing about Epic endings… but hers will apparently be as mundane as death by mugging. _Mugging_! By a human! She’s survived hunters, werewolves, kanima, shape shifters and dozens of other supernatural madness to end up dying in NYC because Lydia decided to use Stiles as her own personal doll. _Fan-fucking-tastic_.

“I said hand over the purse, bitch!” The mugger spits into her face. She should probably focus on that. Sadly, she’s just not that scared. She should be. Stiles knows this. He’s obviously hyped up on something, waving the gun around like a crazy person. Alec Argent’s voice is in her head snorting at how amateur and stupid that is. Scarlett would likely giggle at how _manly_ that is. She may be her best friend but Scarlett can be such an airhead sometimes. Stiles sighs.  
“Fine dude, here, take it. I haven’t got much money in there though, and my phone wouldn’t fit in the tiny purse Lydia gave me so…” He’s pointing the gun steadily now. Right. At. Stiles’. Head.   
Great.

“Shut up or I’ll kill you right here.” There’s spittle! It’s hitting her _face_. Gross! She should probably worry more about bullets hitting her face though, so Stiles’ shuts up.

The mugger starts rifling through her purse one handed. Looking for anything worth the trouble probably. He’s a big guy, but nothing on Derek. Even if they were both human Derek could kick his ass. Heck, Alec could probably floor the guy.  
Sometimes Stiles really wishes she was a Were too. She could kick this asshats ass and be done with it. Being such a short chick- kinda sucks sometimes. Tall, dark and ugly throws Stiles’ purse clear across the street. Rude. He’s looking her over from head to toe now. Oh hells no.

“Alright, darling. Here’s what gonna happen. You’ll hand over the Manolos and I’m gonna walk away. If not… I’ll be having my fun trying to pry them off your feet.”

Huh. Okay. Not as Bad as she was imagining. Apparently even Lydia’s super makeover skills didn’t make Stiles _that_ pretty. Still. The Manolos.   
Lydia’s Manolos. Yeah right.

“Fuck no. It’s not even dark, dude! I could just scream and have somebody around the corner before you could get them off me. Of course, you’d probably shoot me then and I’d get blood all over my friends shoes. So I should just give them to you. You’re right –BUT then I’d be walking around New York with no shoes. Do you _know_ how many diseases I could get? I do. Too freakin’ many. No way in hell, just no.” Stiles crosses her arms in defiance. The mugger looks stumped for all of ten seconds. Then he backhands her. With the gun.

She just got pistol whipped! Cool!   
But holy fuck ow. Freakin’ hell, dude. Why do people on TV and movies never scream in pain from that? She does. She screams and flails and falls over. Her eyes water from the pain. Not from fear, dammit! 

Single White Druggie looks smug now.   
Heh. There’s a familiar shadow from above SWD’s head. Stiles’ snorts. SWD’s pissed again. He goes to pistol whip her again but is intercepted by a rather large and somewhat hairy arm. Stiles’ smiles up at the now snarling shadow.  
“Hi, Derek!”


	2. Samantha's got nothing on Lydia.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek meet up in her and Lydia's shared apartment...

"Is he dead?" 

Derek looks startled that Stiles opens the door and asked that. In public.  
"Is who dead?" Lydia's pert little butt is sticking out of the fridge as she no doubt hunts for calorie free food. Not that said pert little butt needs any trimming... and rhymes may well be Stiles' downfall. Back up! Back up! Change mind topics, quickly. 

"The asshole who tried to mug me." More blunt than her usual epic tales but Lydia is too distracted by the details of said bluntness...bluntitude...hmmm.

"Mugger? OMG _Stiles~_! Your face! Are you okay? No, of course you're not okay. Come with me." Her grip might have been more painful than the actual bruise but the thought of Nurse!Lydia treating her war wounds is too much temptation to resist. Stiles goes to follow along after Lydia's hastily snapping fingers when she's intercepted à la SingleWhiteDruggie. 

Damn. Alpha cockblocking.  
Not that either of them have a cock... but she's pretty sure Lydia would have a suitable ...alternative.

"Don't even think about it." Derek growls. You know it's really unfair on a girls hormones when the idea of Nurse!Lydia is in the same mindspace as Possessive!Derek. Seriously. Derek can smell her interest. Totes not fair. Stiles may be pouting... just a little.  
"Genie. Explain why you were in that neighborhood. Now." At least Derek's got the decency to ignore her... musk, though.

"Stop calling me _Genie_ already! You _know_ I prefer Stiles. I'm never gonna outgrow the 'I dream of Genie' jokes am I?" Stiles turns to Lydia because clearly Derek would never discuss, you know, reason. Lydia folds her arms and blinks as she nods emphatically... funny.  
Cute but no. Just no. The memories...how they haunt her.  
"Huh. Guess it didn't work. You're stuck with it ... Genie." Lydia smirks as she wanders back to the kitchenette.

"Traitor!" Abandoned. With a surly, aggrieved Alpha. _yay_.  
Derek is smirking slightly now but he's got his 'determined' face on. No distracting him from his mission...not that she'll give it up-...errr _give up_ that easily.

"So, Alpha of mine! What brings you out of the wilds of Cali to our humble abode? Pack troubles? Werewolf kibble shortage? Territory expansion? On the lamb again?-" ohhhh, a snort. She's getting good at making him less than Gargoyle-esque. Eventually he will laugh. So help her PTB.

"Genie-" Stiles huffs again but doesn't interrupt this time."-I asked why you where in That Neighborhood." Oh shoot. Capitalization. . . confession time. Or wall slamming will happen again. And Lydia's outfit already suffered from the trip to Pistol Whip Avenue...heyyy, how come Lydia mentioned nothing about the dirt??? Oh damn. She didn't notice.  
Craptastic. Now Stiles will have to confess Twice. _sigh_  
Derek takes a step out of the doorway - oh yeah, probably should have invited him in, but it's not like he's a vamp or anything- ah shoot! Hairy arm! Retreat! Retreat!

Stiles scampers across the carpeted floor and puts the sofa between her and the Alpha. Derek looks even more annoyed now.  
"Okay, okay! It's just...well. I was stupid.-" Derek snorts... very animalistic noise when you think about it. You think of pigs snorting more than wolves though and -"Yeah, yeah. I know, that's a granted. Whatever. What I meant **was** I was running late and wanted to get home quickly. So I took a shortcut. An admittedly more..." she waves her hands in an attempt to wish the right word to desribe it "-creepy shortcut, but I'm used to creepy. I live my day to day with Weres of all sorts, after all!" Stiles smiles winningly up at Derek. She knows it's hopeless but the Powers That Be love a trier.

Derek just rubs his face vigorously and huffs out a much more wolfy sound.  
"Is your face alright?" 

"Huh?" ...that's it? No rant? No strict Talking To? No threats of Dire Consequences should she be so stupid again? Is this because she's technically an adult now? ...she kinda misses the concern. Or no, actually. This is good. Great in fact. No more freak outs from Alphas or Dads who worry too much. Awesome.  
"Oh, yeah. It's alright. I took some meds when I got in. No biggie."

Derek sighs...again, and follows in Lydia’s wake to the kitchenette.  
He reaches for the freezer over Lydia head when she breezes by him with what is clearly an ice pack. Stiles was unaware they owned an ice pack. Not that it doesn't make sense. Supernatural beings have a tendency to bruise fragile humans. Still though, she suspects Lydia somehow made it. Stiles worries for the shower curtains.

Derek grabs her hand before it makes contact with Stiles' face. She'll admit to being a little grateful about that. Because Nurse!Lydia images are _amazing_. But really, Lydia has a sucky bedside manner and a mean left hook. She's not the most gentle of beings, her Lydia.

“Let me.” Derek monotones.  
“Why? I can do it you know.” Lydia’s in defensive mode. Oh no.

“Do you even know _how_ to treat severe bruising and possible broken bones?” Oh yeah, growl at her more Derek. That’ll work. Wait. Broken? Stiles’ feels along her bruise carefully. It doesn’t feel-  
“ **OW!** Shitshitshit. Mmmmm. Ok. Maybe a little broken?” Lydia stares at her for a second in a very clear… kinda insulting, ‘you idiot’ way before replying to Derek while he’s corralling Stiles onto the couch. So much for being treated as an adult.

“I dated the lacrosse captain…what do you think?” But she’s looking at Derek in a weird way… almost ‘considering’. Aw no. Lydia can’t fuck Derek. That’d be too much suck in Stiles’ life… but it is an awesome visual… No! Abort, abort! Derek can still smell you, Stiles! Get a grip.

Derek just glares at her some more. Lydia doesn’t do bravado though. She’s just smart enough to know the many reasons Derek can’t and won’t hurt her. So she’s never intimidated. Ever. Derek is in denial about this. Then again, he is the Alpha Wolf…so if he wasn’t it’d probably damage his psyche or something.

Lydia just huffs.  
“Fine, whatever.” She flings the ice pack at Derek and strides towards Stiles’ seat on the sofa.  
“I’ve got an appointment with the Garibaldi twins in the Lounge anyway. You let him fix you up. Got that, you idiot?” She shakes Stiles head between her hands gently in emphasis. With a quick peck on the nose Lydia flounces out of the room. _sigh_ This, is why she loves her… but-

“You’ve got to stop calling your Italian three-way booty call **appointments**!!!” Lydia wiggles her fingers in acknowledgement but otherwise ignores Stiles’ advice.  
And so Stiles is left alone with an irritated werewolf and a returning headache. Woohoo.

“Genie,” Derek sighs. Hold up. Why is he even here? Really? And why is he sighing so damn much!? And seriously is he Ever gonna stop calling her Genie? Damn Scarlett’s big mouth.

“What really brought to here, Derek?”

“...You did.” He’s started to gently apply pressure to the pistol whip marks -and no, the more she says it in her head the more Awesome it gets actually- but Stiles can’t help the stutter her heart gives at that. Despite knowing he’ll have felt it even more obviously.

“What? …oh. I get it. Pack patrol time. Doing a check up on us all?” Stiles tries to meet his eyes but Derek’s very firmly holding her in place. He knows her to well to let her fidget while he’s giving her first aid… CPR hmmm. **No!** Bad Stiles. Down Girl!  
Derek just looks at her, really intently. Oookayyy. She raises an eyebrow at him. She's getting batter at those. Derek slides around her side and sits comfortably on the sofa instead of looming. Like a creeper. He clears his throat, loudly. If she didn’t know better she’d swear he was feeling awkward. 

“You look different.”

Right…Oh! “Haha, yeah. Lydia decided I’d make a good practice dummy. Apparently she wants to try out some new styles and who better to try new styles than – _Tada~_ -Stiles?” She’s giggling at her little joke. Oooh, there the meds are. _Hello~_ “Do you like it?” She manages to squeeze out between giggling fits.

“You look…different.”

… “Yeah, you said that. Good different? Bad different?”

“There were lots of guys staring at you today.”

“There were?? Heehee. _Waaaiit~_ Just how long were you following me? And if you were creeping on me why didn’t you interfere sooner? Hmm?”

“I was walking along when I picked up your scent. I watched for a while. Made sure you were ok. Lost you on 52nd. New York has too many people. Too many scents. That piece of filth would never have touched you had I found you sooner.” The last part is growled, even more feral than usual. Which reminds her…?

“So… _is_ he dead?” She’s almost afraid to ask… but as protective as he is Derek isn’t stupid…right?  
“Don’t be stupid.” Phew! Ok so she was a little bit more than concerned. He has been known to jump to harebrained conclusions to protect his pack.

“Right. Of course. So! Now you’re here. Get with the Alpha quizzing.”

“What?” Honestly, how can he not know what she’s talking about?!

“The questions you’re gonna ask to ensure I’m 1)behaving myself 2)taking care of myself 3)happy 4)not revealing any secrets etc. etc.” Ha! A smile. Awesome. A smile from Derek and Stiles is in her happy place from the pills. Even the headache is dissipating. Ah~ Life is good.

“I heard you’re moving back to Beacon Hills.” Crash. Boom. Fiery death of the happy place. Of course.

“Did Scarlett tell you?” That vile betrayer.

“Yes.” She should have known he’d revert to monosyllables after Alpha mode. He always seems mildly uncomfortable once he’s revealed his caring side to… well anyone, but especially humans.

“Yeah, I’m moving back soon. The magazine is opening an LA branch and wants some headliners out there to pave the way. Hence, my moving back to California. I figured since BH isn’t _too_ far a commute, I’d give it a try. Be near my dad. The pack.” _You_ , she doesn’t say. Stiles learned the hard way that Derek Hale likes girls who are… well girlie. While she is not and never has been …feminine.

“Good… I-... The pack misses you.” With Derek’s hands still on her face, this is getting awkward. She knows she’s gonna break soon. Oh god, that still feels hella good despite the pain. Wait, is his thumb stroking her cheek?! Buffy, Angel and PTB she’s gonna _moan_ if she doesn’t speak. Right. The hell. Now. Think brain. Think! Why the heck does her stupid ADHD shut up whenever Derek’s too close? Huh? No fair! Anything. **Quickly~!**

“So I heard Alec finally popped the question! How’s it feel having a hunter in the pack for reals now?”

“WHAT!?” He practically roars. O.K. So the news had not yet been shared… shit.  
Well, Derek’s definitely distracted. And moving away. _Nuooo_ ~~ More stroking. Less focus on Stiles. That was the plan! It was a good plan! Don not divert from the plan. Put the phone away. Damn.

Stupid brain.


	3. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles makes her way home.

Stiles appreciates symmetry. It's why she had/has such a thing for Lydia and Derek. Perfectly proportioned. Yum~ *ahem* moving on. Stiles watches the weirdly familiar trees as she drives up to her old house. Seriously how are trees familiar?? -but they are. Weirdly. 

Home. It'll always be home, even if she calls somewhere else home too. Eventually. This was the Original, the Archetype upon which she will forever judge other dwellings. This is where her mom rocked her to sleep as a baby. Where her dad taught her how to play basketball. Where they had water fights on ridiculously hot summer days. This was where Scarlett and her would have Halo sleepovers and drool over the hotties in GoT. It was also where Derek used to sneak into her room like a weirdly creepy Romeo... only not so much because of a desire to get into her pants so much as into her brain. For research. And stuff.

The house was in view now. Biting her lip in excitement Stiles pulled in to the driveway as quietly as possible. She wanted to surprise her dad. Gawd! It'd been ages since she saw her dad. No one looks out the window as she opens her jeeps door and closes it as softly as possible while still making sure it locked properly. No one would like her if someone stole her baby. It had happened one time with a hunter. Stiles ended doing more damage to him than Derek had.

"Stiiiiiiiiiiilllles~!" She braces for impact with the overly enthusiastic wolf. Scarlett will never not be goofy and just... ditzily happy. As she is tackle-hugged to the grass (Thank You PTB!) she wonders why Scarlett never went for something more _athletic_ than cheerleading . . . then Stiles realizes she _still_ can't do what Scarlett used to at their own homecoming games. Those ‘Bring It On’ movies had nothing on teen wolves with competitive and exhibitionist streaks.

So much for surprising her Pops. From her sprawled out position in her lawn she can see basically the whole pack (minus Lydia) making their way onto the porch to welcome her home. Even Derek looks happy to see her.

Which wait? Derek?!  
"How'd you even _do_ that?!" Scarlett looks smug for all of a second when she pulls back from her snuggling until she realizes Stiles is gaping at the Alpha. She huffs in annoyance.

"You're just back and already - Mid Hug! - you're interrogating Derek!"  
Whhaat? No. It wasn't a werewolf thing. No interrogating here. Nope, just...

"Dude! He was still in my apartment when I left for home. Unless he drove here with like No sleep, I don't see how it's possible. He doesn't even have a passport!"

"You don't need a passport to travel within the country." Deadpan Derek strikes again. Damn. 

"Oh.” Smirks from the betas dangit. Diversionary tactics engage. “Annnnd Scarlett, doll, I know you missed your Stiles unbearably but could we possibly move the cuddles indoors? Mrs. McGrath is starting to look like she’s ready to stage a religious intervention. Again." As Scarlett is (rather pointlessly) helped to her feet by Alec, Stiles is grabbed up by Tall Dark and Creepy himself. Awesome. Also ow. 

"Ouch, doofus. Delicate human here. Watch the claws." Stiles whacks at him as she’s set on her feet. But Derek just rolls his eyes at her...non-exaggeration. Alec chuckles in his manly way though so she counts it as a win.

Scarlett seems to be stuck on Mrs. McGrath though. "You know last time wasn't my fault Stiles. It's not like _I_ was the one with several different shirt-optional guys sneaking out of my window." She smirks. Who taught her that?! Stiles will find out and seek vengeance. ‘Taken’ style. It was possibly Alec. He smirks a lot. Not as much as Derek though. This may bear further investigation.

"And I'm suddenly grateful to be in the loop. I'd be disturbingly _concerned_ otherwise. Now move it pups and let me give my girl a Stilinski hug. Come on brat, smush your old man time. I won't even complain about my back." Stiles naturally squeezed even harder for the permission. Not because she was so emotional. What tears? Nope, no sniffling here. Unless you count Scarlett. But Scarlett was an easy crier. Disturbingly she stills cries at both Mufasa's death and the goodbye scene in The Fox and The Hound. You won't see Stiles doing that kinda girly crap. Nuh uh. Not that she'd admit anyway.

“So!” claps Isaac. “Who up for fajitas and beer? Once we’re all caught up Stiles, we were thinking you’d wanna catch the real Homecoming. The cheerleaders this year are …terrifyingly good.” Stiles would be worried about a twenty-something year old ogling teenage girls… but it’s Isaac. He’s more than likely actually ogling Erica’s butt in her coach’s outfit.

Erica just grins evilly at him. She’s just an assistant coach last Stiles heard but she’s definitely going to replace the old hag Ms. Ratheberger. The Rat was an evil plague on teen girls everywhere. The team had always had a good shot at championships however and since Erica joined them they _always_ made the finals. Stiles suspects that the girls are both terrified and a little in love with their HBIC Coach Reyes. Heck Stiles would be too if she hadn’t been there done that, failed spectacularly. 

“Sounds awesome! Fajitas plus teenagers flying through the air that has nothing to do with hunters and/or the supernatural? My kind of party.” As they make their way inside the whole pack finds a way to scent mark her as a welcome back. Whether it’s a quick hug, a peck on the cheek or in one case a fireman’s carry (thank you very much Boyd!). Even Jackson makes sure to bump her shoulder with his, gently! Which, frankly she finds adorable. She’s probably doing what Lydia calls her Puppy Face. Whenever something cute (like a puppy…even the Were kind) happens Stiles’ face melts into an expression that screams _“Awww~”_. 

Derek never liked that face. He scowls the Scowl of Minor Doom whenever he catches sight of it directed at his Betas. She accidently treated him to the Puppy Face once. To be fair it had been a life or death situation and she was shocked and delighted to hear him say he was worried. He of course scowled the Scowl of Impending Doom then so she skedaddled out of there toot-suite. He’s still doing a scowly face but for some reason it’s milder. Not even deserving of the Doom title. Just a Scowl of Huffiness. Homecomings rocked!

As Stiles settled down at the table with her three fajitas (Shut up, Scarlett!) she was nudged by Erica nearly causing her to spill her grape soda. She saved the plate of food but the soda would have been a goner if not for Erica’s wolf powers. Stiles sighed and raised an eyebrow. Silent communication always worked better with Erica. She hated babble. Another reason they lasted all of five minutes together.

“My bad. I just wanted to say something. Me and Scarlett want to talk to you after the meet okay?” Curious…  
“Sure thing. We can all bunk out in my room and have a girly night if you want. I’ve missed 'Alec' rants. Honestly.” See she can do deadpan too. Erica only snorts delicately though. Such a lack of appreciation for great humor! hmph.

“Thanks. I wanted your help with something. Scarlett is already on board but… well the operation could use more brains.” She smirks at Stiles while pointedly looking one of the guys by the sink up and down. Oh no. This can’t be good.

“Hey! I heard that!” Scarlett complained. Stiles wonders which guy has caught Erica’s eye this time while those two argue happily in the background. Looks like home is as… active as ever at least.


End file.
